“Actually swallowed it,” put in Miss Mary on the point of tears. “And of course he was in a dreadful state, and probably in great pain, so we put him in a basket and took his straight away to Dr Phillips.” “Tar must be very indigestible,” murmured Jack. “And did he cure him?” asked Eileen kindly. “Alas, no: he said nothing could be done for him at all, and the kindest thing would be to poison him at once.” A big tear rolled down Miss Mary’s cheek. “Poor Lionel,” she murmured tenderly. “_We_ buried him ourselves,” finished Miss Jane, “under the cedar tree, as close to the churchyard gate as we could put him.” “Much better have put him by the rhubarb,” said Jack, for which Eileen frowned at him over their heads, but instead of being in the least ashamed of himself, he looked up at the clouds and murmured feelingly: “Lady Dudley has still five living—let us be thankful for small mercies.” CHAPTER IV Paddy’s Adventure. Meanwhile in a very ruffled frame of mind, not only because Jack had kept her waiting half an hour, but also because she knew he had gone off quite contentedly up the mountain to look for Eileen, when he found he was in disgrace with her, Paddy trimmed her sail and sped across the Loch to Rostrevor. There was a fairly strong breeze, and the management of the boat kept her busy, but when she landed at Rostrevor alone, she had time to further anathematise Jack in her heart, and was in two minds about going up to the Hendersons at all. They had arranged to come over for tennis, but somehow Paddy did not think she wanted to play. She felt as if she wanted to work off her ill-humour by doing something daring, that would take her out of herself. So it happened that she stood on the quay irresolute and looked out to sea. Her quick eye was taking note of the wind and the tide, while her brain considered the advisability of taking a little trip toward Greenore. One half of her, the wise half, said, “Don’t go; the wind is too choppy.” The other half said coolly, “All the more fun! At the worst it would only mean a ducking, as you can keep near enough to the land to swim ashore.” Then, however, came the thought that Jack would certainly find out she had given up the tennis because of him, and feel ever so pleased with himself. That, of course, would never do. Whatever she had to put up with in the way of tennis was better than giving Jack such a triumph after his behaviour. “I guess I’ll do both,” she said, “and I’ll tell Jack it was the finest tennis I ever had in my life.” Consequently she made fast the painter, reached her racquet, and made her way briskly to the Hendersons, meaning to play one set and then get back to the boat and have her sail. Directly she appeared, she was hailed with a chorus of delight, and was instantly claimed for a partner by four or five different players, from whom she calmly made her choice like a young queen.